


Shopping for Mum

by Ina MacAllan (inamac)



Category: Garrison's Gorillas
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, WWII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:37:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamac/pseuds/Ina%20MacAllan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet again, Goniff's light-fingers get the team into trouble - and a mad dash across enemy-occupied France.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shopping for Mum

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning**: This series was produced in 1967 and set in 1945 - the attitudes and language of the characters reflects both periods and included stereotypes and terminology which may offend 21C sensibilities. They do not reflect the views of the author. This story also includes Cockney dialect and slang.
> 
> It was originally published in the zine _Gorilla Warfare_ in 1995.

Gawd blimey, if I'd known 'ow much trouble it was gonna to cause I'd never've nicked the bloody thing.

It was an afterthought anyway. Casino was takin' forever in the Field Marshal's study, opening that safe, and I 'ad nothing to do out in the corridor, 'specially with the Warden on lookout at one end and the Indian at the other.  It wasn't likely that anyone would get past either of 'em to bother me.  An' there was this box, just sitting on a side table, askin' to be pinched.  Pretty thing it was, gold with initials done in blue enamel on the lid, just the right size for Mum to keep 'er pins 'n' things in.  Okay, so it wasn't as posh as Queen Victoria's snuff box, but since the Warden put the mockers on me keepin' that I figured this'd be just as good.

I'd just slipped it into me pocket when all 'ell broke loose.  There was the sound of pandemonium from downstairs, and the Warden arrived, gun in hand and breathing hard.

"Blimey, what's 'appened?"

"Casino must have tripped an alarm.  We'd better get out, fast."

I didn't need telling twice.  The staircase was blocked with angry Germans so we couldn't get out the way we'd come in, through the front door.  I led the way to what the army calls the 'contingency exit' at a flat run, collecting Casino and Chief on the way.

These old Victorian houses are just made for robbing.  There are usually two or three exits through what used to be the servants' quarters.  When me mum was a skivvy she reckoned that she could've sneaked the 'ole band of the Coldstream Guards into the posh Park Lane 'ouses where she worked without the nobs knowing a thing.  The route I'd sussed earlier took us up through the attic bedrooms, out of a dormer onto the sloping roof of the 'ouse. It was an easy slide down to the roof of the ballroom, which had been added on later.  There Chief whipped a rope around the chimney, lowered Casino and the Warden, and swarmed down it hisself, leaving me to release the knot and follow down the brickwork.  The pursuit found the open dormer just about the time I was tossing the rope into the back of the car.  I couldn't resist thumbing me nose at them as we sped away.

*****

 

The problem with 'arf-inching cars off the street is that they don't always come with full tanks.  This one ran out of juice just before we reached the Warden's rendezvous point.  It was in the worst possible place.  There wasn't a scrap of cover for miles.  You couldn't've 'idden a mouse in that farmland, let alone a ruddy great Citröen.

We'd lost the pursuit, but I'd've bet money they were still somewhere be'ind us, and if they found the car it wouldn't take Hiawatha to track us down.

While Casino pointed that out to the Warden, loudly and at length, me an' our own Hiawatha pushed the car off the road and into a field.  The hedge was scrappy, but it might hide it for long enough.  Maybe if we were lucky some farmer'd come along an' tow it away before the Krauts found it.  I doubted it, though.  That's the trouble with these country people - too damn honest.  Look at the Warden.

Chiefy an' me snapped off a couple of branches, making the hedge even less of a concealment, and covered the tyre-tracks as best we could.  By the time we returned to the others they were pouring over one of the Lieutenant's flamin' maps.

"The village is about ten miles along this road," he pointed out. "We can walk it in a couple of hours."

Chief shook his head. "Not along the road, Warden."

I could see 'is point.  When the Krauts did arrive and find the car it'd be pretty obvious where we'd gone - and they'd catch us on the road dead easy.

The Warden took the point too. "We'll go across-country then. It shouldn't take much longer if we keep to the field edges."  He folded and pocketed the map. "Chief, you and Goniff get moving.  Casino and I will arrange a delay in case there is someone still after us."

Following Chief cross-country isn't easy, and we'd only covered about two fields when we heard the noise of engines - bikes and a truck - droning across the open levels.  In that country sound travels forever, but they were definitely in a hurry, and getting closer.  In front of me Chief vanished.  I found out why when, 'arf a second later, I tripped over 'is prone body and landed in the ditch meself.

I didn't need that finger on 'is lips to know to keep quiet.  We'd done this often enough before.  I pulled out me own gun and kneeled up in six inches of mud to peer over the edge.

Back on the road the bikes slithered to a stop.  They'd spotted the car.  Question was, 'ad they spotted Casino an' the Warden?

I was answered by an explosion.  Reflex made me duck back into cover, so I didn't see the fireball as the truck hit whatever booby trap the others had prepared, but I did 'ear the gunfire.

Casino and the Warden joined us five minutes later.  There was mud on the Lieutenant's German uniform and bits of leaves and twigs in his barnet, but no sign of blood.  Both grenades and an ammo clip were gone from 'is belt.

Chief got to his feet and sheathed his knife.  "I guess the Krauts ain't in no fit state to follow us, least for a while," he said.

The Lieutenant shook his 'ead, scattering twigs. You don't often see 'im puzzled, but 'e looked it now. "I don't think that they were German," he said.

"Then why the fuck are they chasin' us?" asked Casino.

"They aren't - now.  Let's wait 'til we reach the rendezvous before we ask any more questions," he said, checking us over with a glance before turning to Chief and raising an eyebrow in interrogation.  By now we were all pretty good at interpreting that look.

The Indian nodded. "West," he said.

"Right, let's get moving."  The Warden glanced at his watch.  "Actor'll be wondering where we are."

Looking at the empty expanse of country, and the lack of signposts, so was I.

*****

 

I never 'ave liked the countryside, and two hours of plodding across muddy fields, falling in ditches and avoiding the attentions of French livestock didn't make me like it any better.  We were on a sort of plain, and the road ran on an embankment above it, so we 'ad to drop into a ditch every time we heard an approaching engine.  Ten miles on the map feels like more'n fifty cross-country, an' I was lookin' forward to a bit of a rest when we got to wherever we were going.

*****

 

The rendezvous, when we reached it, turned out to be in a row of cottages actually on the main road.  Sure, there was a small garden in front of it, and a couple of trees shading the front porch, but if the German army drove along the road this was the first place they'd look for anyone on the run.

Actor opened the door to us as if 'e owned the place instead of just having 'borrowed' it for the week.  We trooped in and, while the Warden brought Actor up to date, the rest of us made for the bathroom at a dead run.  We don't get plumbing very often in this job, 'specially when we're in the middle of a caper, so when we do we like to take advantage of it.

I got back to the living room in time to hear the Lieutenant settin' out 'is plans.

"We'll have to move again at nightfall. The Germans may still be after us, and they'll search every house along this road."

Actor smiled. "They already have," he said. "I was very co-operative.  Showed them all over the house.  They even wanted to check the oven."

"Not a good place for hiding papers - even microfilmed ones." Garrison observed.

"Oh, they weren't after the papers.  I don't think they even knew about your theft - I assume that Casino did get the photographs?"

"Yes, but he tripped an alarm.  That's what alerted them to chase us.  They _must_ have known about the papers..."

I was beginning to have a very nasty premonition. Actor's next words confirmed it. "They were looking for a pill-box.  An antique someone had stolen from the chateau."

Two pairs of eyes turned on me like gun-turrets.  I'd rather've faced a couple of tanks, but in the circumstances I'd no choice but to come clean.  I pulled the pill-box out of my pocket.

"Er..."

The Warden pounced like a bloody vulture, taking the box from me an' turning it over in 'is 'ands. Actor, playin' Lord Muck as usual, took a glass out of 'is pocket.  That bloke thinks far too much of hisself.  Sometimes the Warden'n me 'ave to take 'im down a peg or two.  Still, 'e's good at what 'e does, an' you can trust 'im to know the genuine article when 'e sees it.

"May I?" he asked, holding out a hand to the Warden, who passed the box over with a shrug.

Like me he didn't expect the weight and nearly dropped it. Then he nodded. "Gold," he confirmed.

"Course," I said, affronted. "You don't think I'd half-inch rubbish, do you?"

"You would if it wasn't nailed down," he replied.  Which is true enough.  I never turn down temptation.

"Even if it is gold," Casino chipped in, "it don't look valuable enough to get the whole flamin' Kraut army chasin' us."

"What about the monogram?" asked the Warden.

"That's why I picked it. HD.  Me mum's name's Hetty."

Actor shoved 'is oar in as usual. "I think it's more likely to be Henri and Diane - King Henri II of France and his mistress Dianne de Poitiers."

I took the box back.  That's typical of the Frogs, puttin' 'is name on a expensive present for 'is bit on the side.  I bet 'is wife never got solid gold monogrammed snuffboxes. "So that's why they're chasing us?"

Actor looked thoughtful. "It's a museum piece, but I doubt if its intrinsic value is sufficient to justify such enthusiastic pursuit."

Sometimes Actor makes more sense in Italian.

"So that's not why they're after us?"

Before anyone could answer Casino's question there was a low whistle from the window.  Chief, on watch as usual, 'ad seen something.

"What is it?" asked the Warden.

"Company.  Guess they didn't believe you, Actor.  Place is swarmin' with 'em."

"They weren't around when we got 'ere," I pointed out.

"Well they're here now."

"Must've drawn a blank further up the road 'n' come back.  Whadda we do now, Warden?"

Casino was interrupted by a shout from outside.  I didn't understand the lingo, but I can recognise 'come out with your 'ands up' from the tone.  All five of us ducked be'ind the nearest cover an' drew our guns. Blessed if I know what we intended t' do with 'em, though.

"Police?"  the Warden asked Chief.

The Indian shook 'is 'ead. "They ain't wearin' uniform."

"_Gestapo_?" I asked. This looked nasty.

Actor, crouched on the other side of the room beside the sofa, shook his head.  "They were speaking French," he said. "They could be _Milice_."

Blimey, they're worse than the _Gestapo._

"Still doesn't explain why they're after us," said Chief.

"Let's ask them."

I'll say this for the Warden: 'e believes in simple solutions to problems.  Dangerous, but simple.

Casino agreed. "Whaddya suggest we do?  Wave a white flag? Lissen, if you put your head outside that door they'd shoot it off before you could ask the question."

"Maybe not.  Actor, you and Casino keep them occupied here. Chief, Goniff, come with me."

"W... what?" I stuttered, shocked. "L... lissen, Warden,  you don't... don't need me..."

He didn't answer, just asked one of his questions. "Goniff, what's the best way to get out of this house without being seen from the street?"

I didn't even 'ave to think about that one.  "Out the pantry window, round the back of the woodshed an' over the garden wall."

"See?" he said. "Told you we couldn't do without you, Goniff."

Me an' my big mouth.  It was a set-up, of course.  The jammy sod knows I never go into any house without checking that there's an emergency exit.  Me old man taught me that.  It's kept me out of the hands of the Old Bill on more than one occasion.  This time the Warden was betting that it would keep us out of the hands of the opposition - whoever they were.

I gripped my gun tighter and scuttled out of the door and into the kitchen after the two of 'em.

I was right about the pantry window - they didn't 'ave it covered, but it was a tight fit for the Warden.

We got into the shelter of the garden wall without being seen. Actor was 'oldin' a conversation in French through the front window - doing 'is outraged house'older bit, I guessed.  It wouldn't fool the opposition, but it was keepin' them occupied.  Even the guy they'd sent round the back was leaning on the corner of the house to listen.  The Warden pointed 'im out to Chief, signalled me to cover the Indian, and faded away 'imself to check for any other watchers.

Watching Chief sneak up on the man reminded me of our old black tomcat.  He could move like a shadow when he was hunting - and every other cat in the neighbourhood was terrified of him.

The Frog didn't have a chance to realise what'd hit him - he just went down like a dislodged slate off a church roof.  I've asked the Warden t'teach me that trick but I've never got the 'ang of it.

I went over to help him drag the unconscious man back along the fence.  Getting him over the wall was a bit of a problem.  "Couldn't you've picked someone lighter?" I whispered to Chief.

His teeth gleamed a grin in the moonlight. "This'n was closest," he said, boosting the body over with no consideration about how it landed on the other side.  It didn't bother me.  If Chief broke the guy's neck he could go back and get another one.  On 'is own this time.

Getting our captive back was a doddle.  With no one watching the back door we could carry 'im into the kitchen the easy way.  The Warden followed us after he had placed a few garden tools across the path just where anyone trying to sneak up would trip over 'em.  Sometimes I wonder about 'is family.  Stuff like that you don't learn in the Army.

By the time we 'ad our souvenir of the trip tied to one of the dining room chairs 'e'd begun to come round.  Actor was right about 'is language.  I've bin sworn at enough by French drivers to recognise some of it.

The Warden's "Silence!" didn't need translating.  It worked.  The man sat up and looked at 'im speculatively.

_"Parlez vous Anglais?"_

_"Oui.._. Yes."

That's a trick the Warden's used before.  English is sometimes the only language the Krauts, Frogs and Eyeties 'ave in common.  If the guy thought we were German or Italian 'e might not be so careful about what 'e said in French. Besides, this way we could all understand what 'e was saying.

"Fine.  Let's start with why you're chasing us."

"M'sieur... Sir. We are honest Frenchmen.  We 'eard there 'ad been a theft at the Chateau of the German Commander and we wished to 'elp them catch the thieves."

"Ordinary Frenchmen? Not  _Milice_?"

I doubt if even Actor could've faked the look of fear that crossed the man's face.  It almost convinced the Warden.  He nodded to Chief. "Search him.  Let's see his papers."

I 'ave to admit, it's unusual for us to demand someone else's papers. Chief fleeced the guy professionally, 'anding over an identity card which looked okay - the same as our fakes at least.  Then 'e went through the guy's other pockets, an' came up with dynamite.

Or, more accurately, with a tin of time pencils.  The dynamite was probably stashed somewhere outside.  Not the sort of thing an innocent Frenchman would be carrying.

It was very quiet in the room.  The Warden checked the name on the ID card and then said, very slowly and precisely: "M'sieur Charet, how is your sister in Nouvion?"

The man's eyes widened with surprise.  He thought for a moment, then replied equally carefully; "Her ankle has healed well."  He paused, then added, "You are SOE?"

"Lieutenant Garrison, Allied Intelligence."  He nodded to Chief to cut the ropes, and continued, "But I still want to know what all this is about."

The Frenchman rubbed sensation back into his wrists. "I will tell you.  But first I should talk to my men.  I do not think that you wish to be shot now?"

"You said it."

It took a while to sort things out, but eventually three of the Frenchmen joined us in the house. The rest stayed on guard outside.  I still wasn't sure what they were guarding - the house or us.  Still, the Warden seemed happy enough to go along with it for the time being.

"I believe that you took a small box of pills from the chateau, no?"

"This one?" The Warden held it up.

"We 'ad gone to a great deal of trouble to substitute the poison for the Field Marshal's medication.  I tell you, it was not easy getting a man into the chateau.."

"You can say that again," muttered Casino.

"The box itself is unique you know.  The Field Marshal would have noticed its loss at once.

"He did."

The Frenchman did not look happy, and not just from the bump on the 'ead. "We planned that when he found it in the chateau he would think only that he had mislaid it and would not suspect the substitution of the pills.  But when we heard the alarms... They said that the chateau had been burgled and the thieves had stolen the box.  We knew that when the Germans got it back they would check the pills... so we had to catch the thieves first."

"What made you think that the Germans would get it back from us?"

He looked astonished by the question. "M'sieur, you are very good, but you are only five men.  The Germans have an army..."

Yeah, but we've got the Warden.  I didn't like the look 'e was giving me.  I spread me 'ands.  "Warden, I ain't taking it back.  Not now."

He shook 'is head. "No, of course not.  It's too late for that." Then 'e went all thoughtful. "Goniff, what would you do with that box if you hadn't taken it for your Mum?"

I shrugged. "Found a fence."

"And the pills?"

"Dump 'em.  Was gonna do that anyway."

"Right." He turned back to the Frenchman. "Marcelle, you had better take your pills back.  You may have an opportunity to use them later.  In the meantime we'll make sure the Germans don't come after you - or us.  I don't suppose that you know of any local fences?"

"Fence, Lieutenant? Oh, _l'homme qui receler_?  Of course not - we are all honest men."

"My apologies." He turned to our own expert. "Any ideas, Actor?"

Actor knows everyone. He barely took time to think. "There used to be an art dealer in Frevais; a M'sieur Picot, who never asked awkward questions about provenance."

One of the other Frogs made a gesture that you don't see in England. "Picot! That one does not ask questions, even of the Bosche."

The Warden was grinning. I know that look - an' I don't like it. "In that case he won't be surprised if a German soldier wants to pawn a little piece of French history. But we'll have to move fast.  Actor, would this guy recognise you?"

"We've never met," he said, sounding like a toff discussing a totter. "He didn't handle my class of merchandise."

"Well let's hope that he'll handle that box; and that _you _can handle _him._ Here," he shrugged himself out of the _Unteroffizier_'s jacket he'd been wearing since the start of this caper and tossed it to Actor.  Luckily the mud had dried enough for 'im to be able to brush it off without leaving too much of a stain, though it wouldn't've stood up to the sort of inspection the US Army is so bloody fond of.  Actor shook it out at arm's length like a duchess handling a haddock.

"Couldn't you do this, Lieutenant?"

The Warden carried on removing 'is boots.  "Dealing with fences is your job, Actor.  Besides, you speak better French than I do."

"Picot won't expect a German soldier to speak French at all..."

Actor should know by now that logic doesn't change the Warden's mind once it's made up.  It didn't now.  Fifteen minutes later he was buttoning the jacket an' making 'is usual complaints about the fit.  It looked okay to me.  Actor's about the same size as the Warden - 'cept 'e's got a bigger 'ead.  I was just passing comment when the Warden dropped a bomb on me.

"Goniff, you're going with him."

Why me?  "Hey, I don't speak French - or German."

"You speak 'crook'," he said, "And Actor may need backup."

"What about Chiefy?  Or you?"

"We've got a getaway to arrange."  That was all the explanation I was gonna get.  He turned back to Lofty.  "Actor, when you've done the business lose the uniform and meet us at Molance."

"Of course.  What about transport?"

"You and Goniff can take the car we were going to use.  I'm sure Marcelle can provide the rest of us with a ride."

Marcelle looked as if 'e'd been steamrollered - the Warden has that effect on people - but he agreed.

"Then let's get moving."

*****

 

The car Actor'd 'acquired' was another ruddy Citröen, but this one 'ad a full tank.  Which was just as well 'cos Frevais was ten miles in the opposite direction from our planned exit point.  I 'oped we'd be able to do the business with this fence and get back to the others before the boat left.

I was driving.  It would've looked peculiar to 'ave a soldier drivin' a civilian - at least that was Actor's excuse.  I reckon 'e just likes to be chauffeured around.  Well, I'd rather drive 'im than be driven by any of the others, 'specially on these French roads that are mostly just cart tracks.

Frevais was a fairly big town by Frog standards an' it took us a while driving around before we spotted the place Actor was lookin' for.  It was on a side street just off the market square.  I pulled up opposite an' opened the back door for 'im.  He straightened 'is jacket as 'e got out, more like a lord than a soldier, an' patted the pocket with the box in it just to make sure it hadn't bin lost in transit.

"This should take about twenty minutes," he said. "You'd better wait outside.  Warn me if there's any trouble."

"How long?  It ain't the crown jewels y'know.  Just 'and it over an' take the cash."

He gave one of 'is theatrical sighs.  "You want a reasonable price, Goniff.  If I strike a deal too quickly Picot will get suspicious."

"Yeah.  Well,  I guess you know your job."

He patted my shoulder and stepped into the shop.  "I do. Don't worry."

A bell rang as the door was opened.  Not an alarm, just one of those tin things on a spring over the door, the same sort me Uncle Alfie'd had over the door of the chippie.  Funny 'ow things like that remind you.  I could almost smell the batter burnin'.  Which reminded me that I 'adn't 'ad anything to eat since before breakfast.  I was reminiscing fondly about rock 'n' chips when our luck ran out.

The Krauts must've bin thinking as fast as the Warden, because Actor'd barely closed the door of the shop be'ind 'im when an army truck pulled up outside with two German soldiers in it.  They looked up at the sign an' checked it against a list one of 'em 'ad on a clipboard.  There wasn't much doubt about what they were doing.  Someone at the Chateau had sent the troops out to check on every fence in the area.

Just our luck that they'd picked this one first.  Somehow I 'ad to stop the pair of them going into that shop.

One thing the Warden always says is 'stick to your speciality'.  Chiefy would've stuck knives in both of 'em quick as blinkin'.  Actor could've talked 'is way out of it.  Me?  All I can do is nick things.

Best pick-pocket in Poplar.

I still dunno why I did it, but next minute I was walkin' down the street towards the pair of 'em.  The guy with the clipboard was getting out of the cab. The driver was already on the pavement, crossing to the open door of the shop when I barged into 'im.

It was the clumsiest dip I've ever done.  Even then 'e almost didn't notice.  I said "Pardon!" in me best French accent and started backing away, lookin' guilty as hell.

He swore in German - probably something like 'clumsy idiot' - quite mildly, then 'e realised that I was 'olding his revolver in me 'and.

I didn't 'ear what 'e said next - I was running.

I was round the corner before the clipboard guy could get his own gun out.  I heard a shot hit something metal - probably a lamp-post - and then the pound of running boots as they took off after me.

At least the racket should've warned Actor an' left the coast free for 'im to get away from the shop before the pair of 'em went back to check it.

Meanwhile I 'ad to lose 'em.

Thank Gawd France is like London: plenty of back-alleys, rat-runs and dead ends, an' most of the buildings old enough to be covered with carvings or ironwork that it's a doddle to climb.

I lost 'em within three streets, though it was a close thing when a pigeon I'd disturbed made enough racket to make 'em look up at the wrong moment.  Luckily they were more worried about getting crapped on than finding out what'd set the bird off.  I ducked be'ind a chimney an' made me way back over the rooftops to the art dealer's.

Actor was leaning on the side of the army truck, cool as the proverbial cucumber, when I got back down to ground level.

"Thanks for the warning," he said.

"Yeah.  Let's not 'ang about.  Did you do the deal?"

For answer he flipped at the biggest bundle of banknotes I've seen since the Warden's handout in Lisbon.

"Cripes! 'Ow much is that?"  You 'ave to watch this foreign cabbage; some notes don't 'ave enough space f'all the zeros, an' they wouldn't buy a decent packet of fags.

"About a tenth of what it was worth," 'e said, splittin' the wad and handing over about a third.  I didn't argue.  I could always dip 'im for the rest later.

"Better than a kick in the teeth," I said.  "Which is what we'll get if we don't scarper sharpish."

'E nodded, pocketed the balance of the cash, and opened the door to the German truck.

"Hey," I protested. But I could see the logic before 'e pointed it out.  This was the easiest way of making sure we weren't followed.  No-one would stop 'im dressed in that gear at the wheel of an army truck.  Wish I thought of these things first.

"You follow in the Citröen ," he said. "There are some woods about ten miles out of town where we can dump this vehicle.  Then we join the others at Molance."

By the time I'd got the car started Actor'd made the turn in the street and was heading out of town.  I followed at a decent distance and it all went like clockwork.  The woods were on the edge of an old quarry - we siphoned off what petrol was left in the truck to make sure that this Citröen didn't let us down like the last Frog car, before we pushed the army truck over the edge.  By the time it finished rolling over there was no way the Krauts were ever gonna chase us in that, even if they found it.

Actor'd left 'is uniform jacket in the truck. Best way to get shot of it, an' it might make the Krauts think 'e'd gone down with the ship.

As I reversed the Citröen out of the woods 'e was changing into civilian rig-out in the back.  By the time we passed the pursuit drivin' in the opposite direction 'e was playin' the businessman to perfection.  Not that I couldn't've done as well, if I'd learned the lingo.

*****

 

They stopped us, of course.

You need a good reason to be on the road usin' precious gas anywhere in Europe, but we 'ad the permits for once an' Actor sounded like 'e was bein' helpful, pointing back along the road with an injured expression on 'is boat-race.  I didn't need to ask, but once we were under way an' the military 'ad disappeared round the bend I did anyway.  He likes to show off. "What did you tell 'em?"

"That we were nearly run off the road by a mad soldier in an army truck."

"The old ones are the best, eh?"

"I have always thought so. Keep your eyes on the road, Goniff.  We don't want to crash now."

Ruddy back-seat drivers. Still, 'e was right.  I didn't want to crash for real - not before I'd got the rest of my cash off of 'im.

By the time we reached the rendezvous the moon was up an' I really did 'ave to concentrate on me drivin' otherwise we'd've ended up in a ditch.  Frog roads are bad enough in daylight; in the Blackout they're murder.

The others were waitin' on the quay with Marcelle, 'oo seemed surprised to get 'is car back in one piece.  I told 'im we 'adn't put a scratch on it, and we'd filled 'er up, with a couple of spare cans of petrol for the Resistance to boot.  Some people don't know when to be grateful.

Like the Warden.

I shouldn't 'ave mentioned makin' a present of the gas.  It reminded 'im of the reason we'd got into this caper in the first place.  'E stopped Actor an' me just as we were getting into the boat.

"One more thing," he said, looking at Marcelle. "You'll need funds, and some compensation for the trouble we've given you.  The proceeds from that box should help."  He nodded to us.  Actor put a hand over his breast pocket - futile, 'cos I was already 'olding his stash.  But I couldn't bluff the Warden.  There wasn't any choice but to 'and it over.  Still, I 'ad to ask.

"What about me Mum's birthday present then, Warden?"

He grinned.  "Tell her she's made a contribution to the war effort," he said.

Actor was smilin' all over 'is mush too. "Never mind, Goniff. I'll help you to find something else for your Mum.  I know of a few museums in Germany that wouldn't miss a few exhibits-" He looked at the Warden. "For the war effort, of course."

 

 

END


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